True Love Way
by Priscilla Hart
Summary: The Princess of Albion and the Captain of the Royal Army. Such a lovely couple, they make. Two beings who strive on the very substance of vengeance. Their passion for battle may drive them to long for each other. These are just a few short stories of a few moments they share.
1. Chapter 1: Early Morning Part 1

•Chapter One•

Early Mourning

_"Dusting off your savior..._

_You were always my favorite. Always my man."_

"Ah! You can almost smell the sunlight. The muggy… soggy… sunlight."

"Oh, Walter… that isn't sunlight you're smelling. Whatever it is, it's revolting," Princess Eleanor replied, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

Walter chuckled as he stood just outside the cave. "This is Mourningwood, alright. I hope the people we are looking for are still alive."

Eleanor stopped to look at her companion. "Why wouldn't they be?"

"Because," he said with a sighed. "Come nightfall, it's one of the most dangerous places in Albion. Well… I don't know about dangerous. But I'm starting to get a rash… bloody swamp."

The swamp wasn't all that bad from the start. There was a clear path to walk on. The grass was still green. And the birds were still singing. It was almost peaceful, if only if it wasn't for the smell. Eleanor looked over to Walter, wondering if they were even going the right way. She gazed up to the sun shining through the leaves of the trees. She observed the ancient ruins as they passed by.

"We made a good team back in that cave," Walter boasted. "It's been awhile since I've been stuck in a real fight. It was just like being beside your mother."

Eleanor smiled. "You're the one who taught me to fight, Walter."

Walter shook his head. "You were born to fight. The only thing I taught you was to use what you already know. You're a natural, Elle."

She felt her cheeks grow warm. "Thank you, Walter."

"I forgot what it was like… fighting beside a Hero."

Eleanor began to notice the air growing thicker. A fog began to form in the swamp, making it difficult to see ahead. They descended to the wetlands and everywhere they looked, puddles of water were the only way through. Any remains of bridges were destroyed long ago. People who dared venture into Mourning Swamp did so at their own risk. At first, the fog seemed natural. But on a second thought, nightfall was not far away. Hopefully, the fort would be just as close, if not closer.

"This is awful," Eleanor whined.

"Complaining won't help you any... We're almost there."

Eleanor groaned. One thing she could not stand was mud. It wasn't getting dirty that bothered her. It was the fact that mud was everywhere. Every crevice on her body was covered with it. And not to mention, the smell was difficult to get used to.

"That must be the place up ahead!" Walter's voice echoed ahead.

She could faintly make out a bright red flag sticking out against the grays of the swamp. It was a sign of welcome and distress. The royal army flag had been torn and tattered throughout its weeks of occupation. Eleanor began to wonder just how long these men had been fighting for their survival.

"What I wouldn't give for a bowl of soup and a hot bath," Walter said as they neared the massive structure.

"I couldn't agree more," she grumbled.

Dreaming about a sturdy fort in the midst of this mess, Eleanor presesd on. She imagined herself being able to sit down actually soak her bare feet in some warm water. It was nothing but bitter disappointment when they reached the actual building. If you could even call it that. The fort had been overwhelmed by various natural disasters of the swamp.

"Cease your movement," someone on the wall suddenly shouted. Walter squinted to make out the man above the gate. "Be you men? Or be you hollowmen?"

"Have you gone daft, boy?" Walter replied. "Open up the doors."

"Walter? Is that you?" the soldier exclaimed.

"The very same. Now… are you gonna let us in or what?"

"Right! Yes. Of course. Open the gate! Tell Major Swift Walter's here."

Elle placed her hands on her hips. "They seem like a bright bunch."

"Knock it off," Walter dismissed her. "You'll see what I was talking about."

The gates swung open for them as if to welcome them into familiar arms. It was a quick chance to study her surroundings. Although, they were nothing like she had expected. In the days of her mother's rule, Eleanor knew the Royal Army as a proud and solid guild of soldiers. They would line up for inspection outside the castle and Lady Sparrow would bless them with her graces. It had been a long time since she last accompanied her mother on such a task. And it was a memory she was fond of. It had shaped her opinion on the army and gave her pride to be part of such an elite force. To see that force on the brink of despair was a disgrace to her mother's name. How could Logan destroy what their mother had worked so hard to build?

"Welcome, Sir Walter," a soldier walking by said, patting him on the shoulder.

Walter simply nodded. He stopped for a moment to take in the air around him. He, too, was disturbed by the condition of the camp. This did not last for long, however, as Walter set eyes upon his old friend. Major Swift, the proud leader of the Swift Brigade. A man of stature and a bloody good shot, too.

"There he is," Walter pointed. "The one and only, Major Swift!"

Swift chuckled proudly as he outstretched his arm. "Walter! What in blazes are you doing here?"

"Been looking for you!" Walter smiled, taking his hand without question. "I have a proposition for you."

"You came all this way to 'proposition' us," said a young man behind Swift. "I thought you were here to save us from the legions of the damned."

Eleanor took the time to study the man. But not before he noticed. Their eyes locked for only a moment. And she felt a sudden feeling of awkwardness as his eyes gave her a quick examination from head to toe. She blushed unwillingly, looking to Walter for some kind of escape.

"Ben Finn." Walter said, oblivious to Ben's interest. "It's good to see you."

Ben gave her one last look, a bit puzzled at her appearance. He turned his attention to the old man. They shook hands briskly before Walter continued to speak.

"I take it the legends about this place are true, then?"

"I'll say," Swift sighed. "You never see so many hollowmen in one place. We've been stationed here for weeks _trying _to eradicate them. Maybe it's us getting eradicated. We lost some good men last night. Including Lieutenant Simmons."

The major glanced over to the graveyard tucked in a corner of the remaining walls of the fortress. Three headstones stood above three mounds of dirt. One of which, a soldier remained digging upon. There was a small pause of silence.

"And the buggers will be back tonight," Swift interrupted.

"Logan just loves to send you on his best assignments, doesn't he?" Walter stated sarcastically.

"That's part of something I would like to talk to you about. Is this... no it couldn't," Swift said, gesturing toward Eleanor.

"The princess? Yes."

Swift grinned. "Never thought I'd see you dressing up as a mercenary and playing in the mud, my lady. It suites you well."

"It's good to see you too, Major," she smiled back, remembering the memories of him from her childhood.

"I'll explain. Just treat her like any other pair of hands for now," Walter suggested.

"Fair enough," Swift nodded. "Then I'll have Captain Finn introduce you to the mortar at nightfall. We could use a... a body up there."

She glanced over at the Captain, who was trying his hardest not to show his excitement. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded to show he had her attention. Once again, she intentionally turned her gaze away.

"I'll introduce you to Private Jammie; called so because he is the luckiest sod in the fort."

"You might be stuck by that mortar all night," Swift cut him short. "You should take a look around you while you can. Talk to the men. It never hurts to know who's got your back."

"Fantastic," she exclaimed. "I could use a bit of a rest before we get to work on those pests. I best be off, then? Leave you two to boast about your youth."

"Stay out of trouble," Walter winked as she stepped away.

He watched momentarily until she was out of hearing range. As Elle looked over her shoulder, she could see the men heavily conversing with each other. She knew Walter did not want to speak ill of her brother right in front of her. As cruel as he was, part of her wanted to believe Logan was not lost. But it was something to ponder on later. Swift was right. These men were worth well knowing.


	2. Chapter 2: Early Morning Part 2

•Chapter Two•

Dead Aren't so Dead

_"Shine on forever, _

_Shine on benevolent sun."_

The little time Eleanor had spent enjoying herself had not gone in vein. Swift's men were not only entertaining, but made of great company, as well. They were interested in the tales of her travels and shared ones of common interst. Of course, they were your typical group of men. Always teasing one another and making foolish jests. But around a lady, they did their best to mind their manners. It was such a disappointment that nightfall came so soon. A heavy aura weighed the camp as they prepared for battle and she ascended the stairs to her post.

Elle looked coyly over wall, examining the area below. The men had dug trenches around the back wall of the fort, hoping to slow down the hollomen's advance. The mortar had proven to be a fine means of defense. And she did not intend to let the men down.

Ben examined her from afar. He wouldn't waste such an opportunity. She was a bit younger than he was. But he tried not to think about it as it would spoil his fun. There was nothing more in the world that he enjoyed more than a challenge. He wasn't exactly sure how difficult this challenge may become... more so if the prize would be worth it, for that matter. But his pride was one hundred percent behind him as he continued to watch.

"So what do I need to do, Captain?" Eleanor said, looking to him for an answer. She stood with her hands held behind her back, no longer bashful of his gaze. If the men wanted to make anything clear, it was that Ben was a very capable captain. And quite the bloke to boot. "He has they best stories," they said. Couldn't get enough of the guy. But she still couldn't help but feel a sense of uneasiness as she caught him staring at her from time to time.

"I would think you would have examined me well enough," she smirked so boldly.

Ben chuckled as he put down his head. "You'll have to forgive me. It's been awhile since I've actually _seen _a woman. I learn to appreciate it. You know?"

"I doubt that," Elle retorted, leaning against the canon. "Just show me what needs to get done and we'll have you back to the tavern wenches in no time."

"Right," he grumbled, admitting defeat. "I don't suppose you've ever used a mortar before. There's nothing to it. There's always a slight chance of maiming, of course. But I'm sure you'll pick it up"

She wrinkled her nose at his last few words and assumed her position behind the canon, grabbing the handles that were obviously meant for aiming. She gave it a little heave and realized the thing was quite solid.

"It's heavy," she grunted.

Ben looked at her with a mischievous smile, the twinkle in his eye as clear as ever.

"It's not _that_ heavy," she corrected before he even had the chance to offer assistance.

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble. First, I'd like you to meet Private Jammy. He'll be your loader."

"Pleasure to meet you," the soldier sniveled. "It's true what they say about me, you know. Jammiest soldier in Albion. Seven hundred and twenty-four wounds and still standing."

"Charmed," Elle said, a bit taken back by all the bloodstains.

"Don't worry," Ben chuckled. "You'll get used to him. After a while, he's hardly revolting at all. Right, Jammy. It's time to show her the ropes."

"Yes, sir!" He pointed to something in the distance. "You see that dummy over there?"

Sophie tilted forward to look. "You mean the pile of sticks?"

"I worked really hard on that," Jammie said sadly in the background.

"Don't mind her, Jammie. Your dummies look fine."

Elle rolled her eyes.

"That's what you're aiming for," Ben instructed.

She took aim and fired. It was difficult for her to counter her weight with the cannon. But she could manage. The strength in her arms was surprising. She made a small grunt as she swiveled to the next target. Ben twitched as she fired. She wasn't sure if it was the perfect shot or the grunt that got him excited. She looked over to him with a wicked grin. To think she was actually enjoying this.

"One more left," he nodded his head in approval.

"Elle!" Walter called. "Get down here!"

She couldn't hear much over the loud blast of the cannon, but she definitely heard her name. Her sword was needed on the battlefield. Her defense wasn't enough to keep the hollowmen at bay. They came from all sides and they came in many numbers. One here and there was easy enough. But the men were fighting nearly three at a time. They were doing well, to Elle's surprise. But at this pace, the ratio would be one to every five. She needed to do something. With a nod to Jammie, she hopped off the wall. He gave a short salute before he began to take over the cannon.  
"It's about time, Princess," Ben yelled from behind the statue.

He had been using his rifle for as long as he could. But they hollowmen had destroyed the box fort he was hiding behind and were now on top of him in a mess. Swordplay wasn't his area of expertise. But he definitely knew how to use one. Elle was surprised not only by the captain, but by the other men as well. Of course, with a leader like Swift, you couldn't expect any less. They roared with fury across the battlefield. Just being in their presence was enough for Eleanor to go wild. Even the dog that had been hiding in a corner came out to bite the ankles of undead.

Eleanor began to unleash flurry after flurry, annihilating anything in her way. Her hands shook with rage and she couldn't help but smile as she watched their heads roll. In fact, within the first few minutes of her participating efforts, the odds of the battle were cut in half. The men who were downed were pulled away from the field, the riflemen returned the posts, and those who had been fighting were able to catch their breath. It was as if the whole fort paused to watch Elle work.

Captain Finn took good aim when he heard Elle cry out in pain. He quickly switched his sights to her cause. She was wounded on her open arm, not that it slowed her down any. He watched as she continued her fight. It was as if she was dancing. She spun on her toes, gracefully sliding her blade across the chest of every hollowman that neared her. The battle was nearly won. A few hollowmen lingered in the distance. But it was nothing Jammie couldn't take care of.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The soldiers looked to each other in confusion. Nobody noticed the hand creeping up from Lt. Simmons' grave. It wiggled back and forth, seeking something to grab. It realized there wasn't anything that was going to help it out from the grave it was laying in. There was a burst of heavy power through the air. Everyone in the area, including the legion of undead, were blown three feet from their original standing place.

Ben rubbed the back of his head, feeling a bump the size of an apple. He groaned in pain as he rose to his feet. His back was bound to have bruises as well. Questions flew through his mind as he lay wounded on the ground. He could barely make out anything in front of him. But he could make out a slight figure in the haze. Who would be strong enough to pick themselves up after a blow like that? He was in pretty good shape himself. If he had not been so close to the wall, he would be able to get back up. Slowly, he turned his head to look at his surroundings. Nobody else was getting up. He didn't get a chance to actually see what was in front of him. The black circles in his eyes began to grow larger. Before he completely drifted away, he remembered seeing a slight glowing light. Something inside him said it was Elle.


	3. Chapter 3: Wanted

To think these people had been living in the sewers this whole time. Logan expected there was a operation headquarters somewhere in Industrial. But he would never have guessed the sewers. Mainly because the sewers were known to be so polluted, they caused illness and disease. Perhaps it was just legend. Or perhaps Page and her men had found an uncontaminated area in those deep tunnels. That was something else completely to ponder. Page was a fascinating woman. But she certainly was difficult. She was stubborn and unwilling to pass her leadership. Eleanor didn't expect Page's men to obey her word. But she expected Page to listen and consider her commands. Page needed her as much as she needed Page.

"Thinking hard, are we?" Walter said at the top of the stairs.

Eleanor looked up with a smile. "Hardly thinking, more or less."

"So, what do you think of Page?"

She looked up to the sky; expect an answer to come to her. She didn't know her well enough to say. "She is… problematic. Stubborn. And maybe a little crazy. But we need those attributes."

"Well said," Walter agreed. He began to walk across the bridge. "They are the heart of our revelation."

"It is clear they will make good allies. But are they trustworthy? And what happens after I gain the thrown?"

Walter was silent beside her. They continued to make their way into the market.

"Regardless," Eleanor thought aloud. "I have other allies who have proven worthy. Even if Page doesn't work out, they will do."

"Speaking of which," Walter said as they rounded the corner. "there is something you need to see."

Eleanor turned to look to her mentor. He smiled playful at her. Without saying a word, she smiled back. She trusted his word, no matter he said. She would not find out until she arrived at the Cock in the Crown. Upon opening the doors, there was a giant cheer. Still dressed in uniform, the soldiers from Morning Fort crowded the pub.

"There's Walter! Come 'ave a drink, ole boy!" someone shouted. Eleanor wasn't really sure who. Everyone was yelling.

Of course, the bar maids weren't pleased with the soldier's outbursts. But they weren't going to say anything because they were buying a good amount of ale. Judging by the smiles on their red faces, Eleanor had some catching up to do. The two did not hesitate to sit amongst their peers. Before they knew it, they had their own pints at hand and were toasting to a new alliance.

"This is what you wanted to show me," Eleanor whispered to Walter.

"If you're seeing what I intended you to see, then yes!" he teased.

"I'm not sure I'm getting the whole image. What am I missing?"

Walter sighed. "Appreciation. Unity. Companionship."

A warm smile grew upon her face. She was too humble to admit she was the reason for her happiness. Since she had gone through those doors, the men were constantly pulling at her. A slap on the back, a touch of the hand, a welcoming hug… it was obvious. They even offered to pay for her drinks. She was the center of attention. Yet… she knew very little of these men. They knew nothing of her. They trusted her with their lives. And as she let her eyes glide across these familiar faces, she could not recall most of their names. She was bad with names. Except for one. That one stood out above all else.

"Good evening, Captain Finn."

"Can I buy you a drink?" he grinned.

"Someone has beaten you to it," she smiled. "But don't worry, there will be more to come."

He took a seat next to her. "Oh?"

Eleanor wasn't actually a fan of liquor. But based upon her first experience in Brightwall, she knew it would be sometime and some drinks before she could feel a thing. Walter informed her that being a Hero, she inherited the high tolerance of alcohol. More than likely from her mother. But she knew Ben, nor any of the other men, knew not of her gift. She would let them find out for themselves.

"I take it your visit with Page was successful?" Ben asked curiously.

"She's coming around," Eleanor sighed.

Page wasn't something she wanted to talk about. It was the least of her worries. "And what of your visit? You spoke with her recently."

He laughed. "She still won't even let me in the room with Swift. She doesn't trust me."

"She doesn't even trust Swift," Walter snorted.

"She doesn't trust anybody," Eleanor corrected.

Eleanor ran her hands through her hair. She had been waiting patiently outside the pub for her "escort". He had mentioned using the bathroom moments before, so she assumed he had been doing just that. But as he stumbled through the door, Elle began to wonder otherwise.

"You had another drink, didn't you?"

Grinning sheepishly, Ben nodded. "I thought you were behind me. Honest!"

Her hands gripped her hips and shifted in her stance in irritation. It was hard to believe him with a face like that. A smile that never ceased. A joke always being played. A good secret he cannot tell. Who knew _what _was on his mind with a smile like that?

"I just hope you can walk like that."

With a wave of his hand, he brushed her away. He began to walk down the street, perfectly capable of holding himself up. Eleanor sighed as she began to follow behind him. So much for an escort. But she knew perfectly well she couldn't leave him alone. He would turn right around and head back to the pub. She had specific orders to make sure Ben was at headquarters before morning.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stumbled. A giggle slipped from her mouth, and Ben turned to glare at her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled beneath another girlish giggle.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"Well… you're stumbling."

"No I'm not," he said quite seriously.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes as she examined his face. "I believe I saw otherwise, sir."

He crossed his arms. "I think I would know if I was stumbling."

"You wouldn't know if you had fallen on the ground, Captain," she chuckled.

Ben couldn't help but smile. "Well, maybe if I had a little help, I wouldn't be tripping over my own feet."

"So you can trip on mine? No thank you," she smirked.

"Oh, come on," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulder.

She place an arm around his lower back. But only to prevent him from toppling onto her. Irritated and still slightly drunk, Eleanor began to make her way back to the Bowerstone Resistance. Ben was still muttering some pirate song, laughing every now and so often of the memories it brought back.

"Have you ever been on the ocean?" he grumbled.

"I can't say that I have," she answered.

"You haven't? Well that's a shame. It's a beautiful thing, the ocean. All the water and sky. It's like there's nothing else."

She let him ramble on about fantastic sailing was and how the sea was the only place he called home. It was difficult to ignore him as his form of narrating his tales was quite interesting. But she found herself drifting off, wondering about her own adventures. How she could not wait to get this fool to bed. Apparently, he could wait. He took his sweet time, walking slowly beside. In fact, he had come to a completely stop at one point.

"Do you see that?" he said.

"See what?"

"It's... well bloody hell, it's me!"

Eleanor let go of her hold on him. She watched as he made his way over the wall down an alleyway. Hestiant at first, she set aside her doubts and followed him. The post was, in fact, of him. "Ben Finn. Wanted for: Treason." She gasped. Ben was laughing hysterically beside her. It slowly soon started to fade as she looked around the rest of the wall. There was Walter. Swift. Page. But there was no poster for her.

"I'm sorry, Elle. I guess you got left out."

He hadn't fully grasped the seriousness of the situation. Eleanor just stared.

"I'd hang up a poster of you," Ben winked, nudging her on the arm.

"Ben, please. We have to tell the others."

"Alright, alright," he sighed. "Quit fooling around, then. Back to the sewers we go."

Ben headed off toward the main street. Eleanor soon followed, giving one last glance back at the wall of wanted posters.


	4. Chapter 4: The Edge

Elle was lost within her own thoughts. She could still hear the voices as if they were whispering into her ear. As much as she would have liked to block them out, they plagued her mind. She could see their little red eyes when she closed her eyes. She could feel their hands reaching out to grab her. She felt weak and wounded. She knew sleep would not come easily.

Ben appeared from behind the curtain. She suddenly snapped into reality. It was odd that she couldn't remember how long she had been out of it. Slightly embarrassed and hoping he wouldn't notice, Elle stood up to greet him.

"How is he?" she said.

"I thought I told you to get some rest?" he chided.

"I can't sleep."

Ben sighed. She was always so stubborn. He threw his belongings down onto the pallet made for him. Kalin was kind enough to provide them with blankets and a place to sleep as they waited for Walter to awaken. The day had passed by as they paced the temple, waiting for an answer. Now that the sun had set, they prayed the Crawler would not pay them a visit. But it had been an hour since the sun had set. And the desert was oddly quiet.

"Let's have a look at those wounds on your hands, shall we?" he said kneeling in front of her.

Without saying a word, she held her hands out to him. He began to unwrap the bandages around her hands. She watched as he gently examined them. Ben had seen her ability to heal quickly before. And he wasn't surprised to find that her hands would be completely healed by morning at such a pace.

"Not bad," he smirked. "But they still need bandages to protect you from infection. I'll take them off in the morning and you should be fine."

He proceeded to wrap her hands in a light gauze that he just so happened to carry in his pack. She was surprised at how delicately he held her hands. She was always imagined Ben would be rather rough with... well, with anything really. He was often clumsy and arrogant. At times, he was even aggressive. But he seemed like a totally different man when it came to her safety. Without warning, she felt her eyes swell up in tears. She couldn't explain how or why. But suddenly, there was an overwhelming feeling of gratitude in her heart. At first, he didn't notice, continuing to bandage her wounds. But when he saw tears falling into her hands, he looked up with concern. He didn't really know what to say. The only thing he could do was stand up, her hands still cradled in his, and stare at her. He opened his mouth to speak... but nothing came out. Before he could come up with some sort of an apology, she slowly leaned into him, placing their hands on his chest and pressing her cheek against him.

"I can't thank you enough, Ben," she sniffled. "I would be dead by now if it wasn't for you. Buried somewhere in the desert under a pile of sand. And Walter... God knows what would have become of him if you didn't come along."

Ben smiled. He released his hands and slid them around her back. She lifted her chin to look him in the eye. He looked at her with a soft smile and said, "You don't need to thank me, my lady."

She opened her mouth to speak but he would not allow it.

"Your efforts are more than enough. As long as you'll do right by Albion, I'll do anything I can to help you."

Tears continued to pour down her face.

"Come on then," he said, giving her a slight tug. "Some sleep would do you some good."

She stepped closer to him and slid her arms around his waste. Laying her head upon his chest, she hugged him tightly. She could feel his heart racing as he stood puzzled. He hugged her back, placing his chin on top of her head. He took in the scent of her hair. He stroked the back of her shoulder in comfort. He sighed in thought if he would ever be able to be this close to her again. Or perhaps this was his moment? She let go of him and look up into his blue eyes. He wanted to take advantage of it. It was perfect timing for a kiss. However, when he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek, he felt that they were still wet from tears. No. This was not the time. He would have to wait for that kiss.


	5. Chapter 5: Shake Me Down

The wind blew. The boat rocked. It was a calm and peaceful moment. It was one in few. The three travelers sat quietly as the boat trekked on toward Albion.

The old one, Walter, sat lazily against a wall. He was weakened by his last battle and could not find the courage to sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see little red eyes peering at him. They never blinked. And no matter how hard he tried to ignore them, they never went away. They were watching him. But Walter was determined to force this thing out of his head. He had faith that someday the eyes would retreat and leave him be.

Next to Walter, Ben sat studying over maps of Albion. They weren't that interesting to look at, but he found little enjoyment elsewhere. What was there to look at? The ocean waves? The beating sun over their heads? The sail billowing in the wind? Hardly. But the princess. Now that… that was something to look at.

Rebel Princess Eleanor stood at the front of the boat. Her eyes were fixed on the destination ahead. It was not visible to the human eye. But she could picture it clearly in her mind. She could see her people. She could see flames. She could see victory and death. Her heart was slowly breaking. She had no idea how much worse it was going to get. She let the calming wind take away her worries with a deep sigh. It wasn't much, but it relieved the tension in her chest.

Ben, hearing the sigh of a damsel in distress, glanced over at her. He watched as she brushed her hair away from her cheek. His eyes examined her for the next few minutes. He bit his lip, almost wanting to break the silence. Should he speak aloud? Should he sit next to her? If he did, would Walter see it? To make sure the old man was asleep, he looked over his shoulder.

Unfortunately, not. Walter was grinning and even took a teasing glance over at the princess.

"How are those maps, Ben? Memorized them yet?"

"Shut it, Walter."

Walter chuckled. He was aware that Ben was attracted to the princess. And he made Ben promise he would be no distraction. The last thing the princess needed was another heartbreak. But the young soldier couldn't help his want to become closer to the princess. If he wasn't allowed to be affectionate, he would tease her. Border-line flirtatious remarks were his specialty. The princess played along well, but she was always innocent. She was always sweet. Something he hadn't had in a long time.

"You should talk to her," Walter suddenly said.

"But I-"

"You may not have another opportunity."

In truth, they really didn't have much time. With Walter's permission, Ben gathered up his courage to get out of his seat. He was nervous. But that never stopped him before. Ben was an excellent speaker. Women crumbled in the palm of his hands when he whispered to them. Then again, the princess was unlike most women. She was intelligent. Classy. Bold.

As he began to make his way over to her, she turned to meet his gaze. His heart stopped, but he kept going until he was beside her. He looked to the horizon.

"Something on your mind?" she asked.

Ben shook his head. "No, no. I just wanted some company."

"Ah. Walter isn't exciting enough for you?"

They both looked over at old man. He appeared to be napping in the corner. Ben thought otherwise. But Eleanor was convinced.

"Do you enjoy sailing?" Ben asked.

"Sailing? I suppose. The breeze is nice."

"Nice? Don't you find it intoxicating? There is nothing greater than the ocean breeze."

"Oh, I don't know about that. There are many things I can think of other than an ocean breeze."

"Is that so? Like what?"

"A hot bath, for one." she grinned.

Ben had to take a moment to pause. The princess in a steaming hot bath. That wouldn't be so bad.

"But I guess," the princess interrupted, "considering our circumstances, a nice cooling ocean breeze is the best thing we have."

"Next to you, of course," Ben winked.

Eleanor couldn't hold back the smile forming on her face. Ben's remarks were something she was used to. She always imagined he was teasing her. There was always some innocence in what he said. Sure, Ben was a dashing young lad. But Eleanor had a hard time finding him serious. She wasn't the only pretty thing he flirted with. Ben loved women. That was no secret.

"You know, Ben… I'm glad you're here," she smiled. "You are the greatest companion that anyone could ask for."

Ben chuckled. "I'm glad to be of service to you."

"I really mean it! Next to Walter, you're the only one who can bring a smile to my face in these hard times."

Ben felt his heart grow warm. The smirk on his face blossomed into a great smile. "Anytime, Princess. Any time."

She touched him lightly on the shoulder. Her face was irresistible with that kind smile. Ben wondered if it was the last time he was going to see that smile.


	6. Chapter 6: Dreaming of Revelry

She looked so beautiful in that ballgown as he came up the stairs. It shocked him to a stand still in the doorway as he peered from afar. Her smiling face was one he could pick out of any crowd. Especially when she was dancing...

There was that image again. The one of her at the banquet. And where was he? Ben was standing like a scared little boy, posting up against the wall near the balcony. He didn't even have the courage to call out to her. The people around him were those of wealth and stature. He was but a lowly unknown captain who had never been recognized. Not like Eleanora or Walter. Maybe Page was right. Maybe he should just leave.

Ben rubbed his temples in confusion. He threw his bottle into the fire place, wishing he was drunk enough to stop thinking. When he first met Nora, she was wading through a swamp dressed liked a mercenary. He had been used to seeing her dirty, tired, and lonely. Never once had he seen his Queen so happy.

"Ben?" came a feint voice on the other side of his door, accompanied by a light tapping.

As if things couldn't get worse. He leaned over and listened quietly as Nora leaned on the door. She pressed her cheek against the cold wood. Would he stir on the other side? Was he asleep? Or was he even there?

"It's just me," she whispered.

He closed his eyes. Maybe if he pretended he was sleeping, she would go away. As always, he wanted to be invisible. He ignored her persistent taps with fingers. She gave one final sigh before she retreated down the hallway. Ben leaned up, wondering if it was worth the trouble to talk to her now. He stumbled to the side, nearly knocking the candle off his bed side table. He sat back down, quickly realizing he wasn't sober enough to speak to her clearly. Yet, he wasn't drunk to forget her. The bar sounded welcoming right about then.


	7. An Author's Note

The few stories you just read were a few entries into my Fable Fantasy World. I planned on writing a full fledged story from beginning to end staring with the meeting of Ben Finn and ending a few years after the Princess became Queen of Albion. I have an outline, and a few chapters (as you just read) but I have had little encouragement to press on. This is all I have to show for my work. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Many thanks!

**Update** Someone has informed me that there are several different names in the stories. I thought I had fixed that. . So I am terribly sorry for the mishap. It soooooould be fixed now. If you notice any other oddities, please let me know!


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